Do you remember where you were nine months ago? I do. On March 13, nine months ago as of this writing, I was out for dinner at a new restaurant, and it was packed. At the time, that wasn’t exactly a rarity. The most obvious perk of my job writing about restaurants for The Oregonian/OregonLive is getting to eat out at places new and old on the company dime. And spring is the time when I research our annual restaurant guide.
But the night was unusual for at least two reasons. First, my wife and I had managed to arrange a date without our two young kids. So while I was wondering how the smoked onion rings at the just-opened Bar King compared to the gold standard set by RingSide Steakhouse decades ago, I was also trying to calculate whether we could sneak in one more cocktail before 8:30 p.m., when we had to head home to relieve our babysitter (or our Lyft turned back into a pumpkin, whichever came first).
Second, and more importantly, our dinner came just as the severity of the pandemic was becoming clear to many Portlanders, four days after Utah Jazz center Rudy Gobert mocked the new coronavirus by touching reporters’ tape recorders, then promptly tested positive, leading to the indefinite suspension of the NBA season, and four days before Gov. Kate Brown placed a ban on social gatherings, including limiting restaurants to takeout service.
For those of us who ate out that weekend, and the staff who would soon be scrambling for unemployment, an easy metaphor might involve musicians playing as the Titanic sank. But there must have been a moment, after the ship hit the iceberg but before reality set in, when guests, employees and that doomed quintet looked at each other and laughed. For those of us who had been following the news in Wuhan, China, and Bergamo, Italy, eating out that night felt a bit like holding your breath, wondering if we were doing something wrong by being out at all, waiting for a shutdown we thought might last two weeks but ended up stretching for months, then returning again this fall.